


All This Time

by i_will_always_find_you



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Azriel/Elain, Elriel, F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-07 07:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11053848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_will_always_find_you/pseuds/i_will_always_find_you
Summary: He was death and darkness and shadows. She was life and light and fresh air. They were both quiet and gentle and caring. She grew flowers while he grew shadows.Elain decides to reject her mating bond to Lucien, only to find that what she had been looking for was in front of her all along.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After recently becoming obsessed with this 'ship, this story sort of poured out of me. It's going to be a nice, slow burn. Hope you enjoy!

 

  

_He was death and darkness and shadows. She was life and light and fresh air. They were both quiet and gentle and caring. She grew flowers while he grew shadows._

***

**Two years after the defeat of Hybern**

Elain stood in the foyer of the townhouse, waiting for Feyre to appear. Her sisters were always fluttering in and out, doing a million different things at once, and it was never easy to track them down. She figured the townhouse was a good starting place, as someone was bound to show up eventually.

Since no one had dared to make an appearance yet, she figured it was as good a time as any to check the garden out back. In the two years since the defeat of the King, Elain had taken up her own residence a few streets away. She had her own sprawling garden there, but still tended to Feyre and Rhys’ in her spare time. Theirs was mostly devoted to various herbs and spices, while hers had beautiful flowers, trees and shrubs.

As she stepped outside, the sunlight hit her and she couldn’t help but raise her face and arms to the sky. She was lucky to be alive, and thankful for it, most days. There were days when it still didn’t seem real, when she couldn’t believe this was her life. That she not only had years ahead of her, but _centuries_.

As she bent down to check the thyme, with her fae hearing, she heard the crack of someone winnowing into the house. Knowing it was always best to announce your presence in Rhys and Feyre’s house, lest they immediately started doing things best left for the bedroom (and she had walked in on them more times she cared to admit), she called out, “I’m in the backyard!”

Rhys appeared in the doorway of the garden, leaning, as he always did, against the threshold.

“Looking for Feyre?” He’d been flying at some point during the day since he smelled of the wind. A few specks of darkness leaked from him, but nothing out of the ordinary. These days, their lives were “downright boring” - Mor’s words, not her own.

She didn’t mind the boring.

She nodded at him.

He gave her a soft smile in return, and she knew he was using the bond to tell Feyre she was looking for him. “She’ll be over when she’s done dealing with Cassian.”

Elain nodded. She thought about asking what Cassian had done to incur the wrath of her sister and his High Lady, but it was such a common occurrence that she didn’t bother. She turned back to the garden.

“Can I get you anything, Elain?” Rhys asked, pushing himself off the doorway.

“I’m all set, thank you.”

Rhys left her to the thyme.

******

A short time later, Feyre winnowed straight into the garden and immediately mumbled, “I swear on Amren’s favorite ruby necklace that the next time that _asshole_ decides to _borrow_ one of the paintings for his house without paying the artist for it, I will make sure him and Nesta don’t have any privacy _for a month_.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Feyre.” Rhys chuckled from inside the house.

“Go make yourself useful, elsewhere,” Feyre replied, before giving him a vulgar gesture. Elain immediately worried that maybe this wasn’t the best time to have the conversation she needed to have with her sister. But the second Feyre turned to look at her, it was as if all of the anger evaporated. As if she couldn’t bare to frown or yell or be angry with Elain.

Feyre strolled over to her sister, the day’s stress flowing out of her like string. “It’s good to see you, Elain,” she said, taking a seat on the iron bench. “Need a break from the morons who make up my court.”

Elain gave her a weak smile.

“What is it? Rhys said you were waiting here for a while. Is everything okay?”

No. Everything was not okay. But she didn’t know where to begin.

“Is it Lucien?” Feyre prodded. These days, it was always about Lucien. “Did something happen?”

Sometimes, Elain thought her sister was also a seer. She nodded.

“Did he come back early?” Feyre asked. Silence. “Elain, whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise I won’t say anything to anyone.”

And Elain, sweet, gentle Elain, who never said more than a few sentences at a time, started talking. And what she had been holding in for months poured out of her.

“No, he didn’t come back early. He’s at the Day Court with Helion for the rest of the month and….does it make a horrible person if I don’t want him to come back? If I realized this is the happiest I’ve been in a year? When he’s gone? He’s my mate, Feyre, and I know he is. I feel the bond, I feel the pull, but when he’s away….that feels right, too. It feels doable. It feels liveable.”

Feyre nodded, urging her on.

“I see you and Rhys, and…I want that. I want what you two have. But that’s not me and Lucien. We don’t match. He needs fire and wind and destruction. And I need calm and quiet and….”

“Shadows?”

“I was going to say sunshine. But Feyre, I can’t remember the last time I truly smiled.”

Feyre did know. Since the death of the King, it was always calm, weak smiles from Elain. She’d forgotten what her sister’s real smile looked like. Feyre grasped Elain’s hands in her own as Elain continued, “Right before Lucien left, we decided that when he came back we’d make a decision. Together. But I know what my answer is. I don’t want it. Maybe it’s because I’m still healing, maybe it’s because I’m not ready for it…but I -”

“You want to reject the bond?” Feyre whispered, a tinge of fear to her voice.

“I want to reject the bond.” There. She’d said it. And it was like a weight she’d been carrying since the moment she’d tumbled out of the cauldron was lifted.

Feyre wrapped her arms around her, Elain resting her head on his sister’s shoulder. “Okay. I’ll talk to Rhys tonight. We need to…figure out a few things.”

“In case he goes crazy when I reject it?”

“Yes.” She sounded afraid.

“You’ve always taken care of me.”

“And I always will.”

******

Feyre had insisted Elain stay for dinner, not wanting her to go back to her house to sit by herself now that she’d told her the news. She could tell her sister felt lighter than she had in years, and had even come close to cracking a smile a few times during the dinner as Mor and Rhys bickered back and forth.

Nesta was off visiting the Winter Court and Feyre was glad for it - she wasn’t sure how Nesta was going to handle the news. Her and Rhys needed to have a plan in place before she returned.

“Stop frowning at me,” Elain said from across the table. “Didn’t anyone tell you that it’ll give you wrinkles?”

“We don’t get wrinkles,” Feyre responded with a wink.

Rhys waved his hand to clear the dishes, leaving the wine glasses. “One more round?” he asked.

“I’ll grab one of the special bottles,” Mor said, rising from the table.

At that moment, Azriel breezed into the room, wrapped in shadows.

“Nice of you to join us,” Rhys said, barely turning his head to look at the shadowsinger. “I invited you three hours ago. Where have you been?”

“Not everything in my life is about you, Rhys,” Azriel replied, jokingly. He didn’t offer any more of an explanation. He sat down in one of the empty chairs at the table, pulling a glass of wine towards himself. He nodded to Mor, things still a little awkward between them, before turning towards Elain and giving her a smile. His shadows curled slightly. 

Feyre was so busy trying to analyze if things between Mor and Azriel were back to normal, that she almost missed it. But it was there. A genuine smile had crossed her sister’s lips.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_He smelled of wind and ice. She smelled of roses and sunshine._

***

Rhys was pacing, and after spending two years with the High Lord, Elain knew the pacing was never a good sign.

“Are you angry?” Elain asked, slightly nervous for his response. She had her arms wrapped around her body, a coldness having settled over her. Although she’d felt lighter in years since she told Feyre her decision, telling Rhysand was different. Even though he was family, he was still a High Lord. The most powerful High Lord in existence.

“Angry?” Rhys said as a look of sadness crossed his face. “Did you really think I was going to be angry?”

“I don’t know. I know what rejecting the bond means. I know the danger it puts you in by having to protect me.”

Rhys shook his head at her, giving her the small smile he typically reserved for conversations with her. “Me? You’re worried about _me_ in all this?”

She didn’t know what to say. Worrying about others is what she did.

“The emotion you’re seeing from me is concern. _For you_. Of course we’ll protect you. Of course we’ll make sure no harm comes to you. But I just want to make sure - this is what you want? There may be no going back.”

“Better now than decades from now.”

Rhys paused his pacing to face her fully.

“It takes a strong person to do what you are doing. Not many would do it, even if they felt the mating bond was wrong. My parents stuck it out. Tamlin’s parents stuck it out. Countless others. They were never truly happy though. You’re braver than most.”

“I’m not brave,” she whispered quietly, eyes turned towards the floor.

Azriel took this moment to appear from the shadows in the back of the room. Elain wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but she blushed from embarrassment, hoping he hadn’t heard too much.

“How long have you been there?” Rhys asked.

“I just arrived,” Azriel replied, eyes focused on Elain. Her blush faded and he turned to Rhys, “You summoned?”

“As I’m sure you’ve heard about our dear Elain by now, can you gather some intel on Lucien’s dealings at the Day Court? We need to start strategizing as soon as possible and so first I’d like to know whether Lucien is planning to accept Helion’s offer to be his heir.”

Azriel nodded, turning to leave.

“I think you’re very brave,” Azriel leaned in to whisper in Elain’s ear before vanishing from the house.

******

While Rhys was talking to Elain, and he had insisted on doing so alone (he claimed he needed to build a better relationship with Elain, since his relationship with Nesta was barely tolerated and he couldn’t stand living in a world where _both_ Archeron sisters found his company miserable), Feyre decided it was a good time to check in on her dearest friend.

Mor was getting ready for a night out in Velaris as Feyre breezed into her room. “You sure you don’t want to join me at Rita’s?” Mor asked, fastening a star-shaped flower in her hair.

“Not tonight, things are still so...fragile with Elain. I think I’m going to drag her to the galleries with me. She’s just been feeling so much. She’s always been carefree and ever since she came out of the Cauldron, I can see the weight of it all pressing down on her. She was mated immediately, then the almost war happened, our father died...I don’t know what to do to show her how loved she is. And cherished.”

“She knows.” Mor said, giving her friend a squeeze on the shoulder.

“Speaking of love…” Feyre began. Mor gave her a look, knowing immediately where this was headed.

“I haven’t brought it up in a while!” Feyre said defensively. “Things have seemed better between you and Azriel.”

“They are better. It’s been almost six months since I told him and Az...well, he’s Az. I wasn’t expecting him to process it and what it all meant right away. It was hard for a while, but I think it’s behind us now. Finally.”

“You must feel relieved,” Feyre said, picking a piece of lint off her friend’s bright red dress.

“I feel relieved. And happy. And free. I feel like me. For the first time in centuries, I’m at peace.”

******

Elain needed to clear her head and found herself wandering by the Sidra, trying to find one of the tributaries and streams that Lucien had showed her a few times. She was beyond grateful for her sister and Rhys, for everything their court was doing for her. But ever since she’d announced she was rejecting the bond, she hadn’t had anytime alone at all to think. To process the gravity of the decision she was making.

If someone had told Elain five years ago that this is how her life would have turned out - that she’d end up as high fae, as a seer, with a mate - she never would have believed it.

And that was the problem. She hadn’t had any time to process any of it. From the moment she emerged from the cauldron, she had belonged to someone else. She’d been Lucien’s, and Feyre’s and Nesta’s. The only one who had given her peace, true peace, during those first few months had been Azriel. And that was only because he didn’t talk to her.

No one had ever forced Lucien upon her, but the bond had done that all on it’s own.

Part of her wondered that if they had had the time and space to have met naturally, if they hadn’t been automatically _told_ by this unexplainable _pull_ that they were supposed to end up together, if she would have fallen for him then. But deep down, she knew the answer. She knew that they weren’t meant to be. He had told her about his previous love Jesminda and, like most females, she couldn’t help but to compare herself to her. And Elain knew she had nothing in common with her. He needed passion and fire and flame and strength. And while she had her own strong qualities, it wasn’t what he needed. And he wasn’t meant for her.

She knew she was making the right decision to reject the bond, for both her and Lucien, she just prayed he understood. And maybe, just maybe, he’d even thank her for it.

******

Lost in thought, Elain had wandered from stream to stream, not realizing just how far from Velaris she had gone. As sunlight fell and night started to descend, she realized she should probably head back. Elain  turned around to head in the direction she just came from and then realized she had no idea where she was other than in a swampy and heavily forested area, completely surrounded by trees.

She hadn’t yet mastered the ability to winnow, probably because she so rarely practiced. And as panic started to take over, she realized she wasn’t going to be able to even try.

She continued to wander, hoping she was going back the way she came. She struggled with tracking her own scent, and was starting to seriously regret not taking the time to learn the basics of being Fae. She knew that Feyre was probably in a panic, and if Nesta had returned to Velaris as well, she didn’t even want to imagine the two of them trying to figure out where she was.

“Well, I’m definitely lost,” Elain murmured to the darkness. “And I probably should have left a note.”

*****

It was fully dark by the time the real panic set in. She could hear creatures scuttling about, could smell them hunting and making their kills. She knew she was being tracked by something, that feeling that eyes were on her inescapable.

She began walking quicker, looking for a cave or a hollowed out trunk to hide in. Whatever it was that was following her was getting closer. Just as she was about to scale a tree and hide out until sunrise, a gentle breeze surrounded her.

“There you are,” Azriel said, appearing from nothing but shadows. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Relief flooded her at the sight of him. He was in Illyrian fighting gear, all seven cobalt siphons glowing in the night. Upon seeing his full battle attire, she realized her family and the whole court hadn’t been just worried about her - they’d feared the absolute worst.

“I got lost,” she mumbled at Azriel, ashamed. “I was lost in thought and stopped paying attention to where I was walking. Stupid, I know.” He said nothing as he looked her over, assessing whether or not she was hurt. “I’m okay.”

He reached for her, pulling a twig out of her hair that had become tangled in her braid.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, opening his arms for her. She stepped into them, noting he smelled of wind and ice. He flew them back, over the trees and along the path of the river, with only the stars lighting the sky.

“It’s really beautiful here, isn’t it?” Elain said as she looked over the landscape.

“Sometimes I forget just how much,” he replied. They were both silent for the rest of the journey.

He landed in front of the townhouse and she stepped out of his arms. “How angry with me do you think they are going to be?” she asked him.

“Angry enough that I’m going to go get a drink before I come back.” He smiled at her, his shadows withering around him.

He slightly bowed his head before turning around to head down the street. He was a few steps away when, “Azriel?”

He turned back towards her.

“Thank you. For finding me. And helping me. When no one else could.”

“Always.”

And then he left her, to deal with her sisters alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a review if you are enjoying this story so that I know to continue with it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for being patient with me as I write this. This chapter is dedicated to my friend Beth, who argued with me over who would be better in bed, Azriel or Cassian, for no less than 2 hours.

_She didn’t care that he had scars. She had plenty of scars of her own._

 ******

It had not been an easy week. Between her sister's constant hovering, and the restlessness of the members of the Night Court, Elain barely had a moment to herself.

After “the incident” as Cassian started calling it, Feyre wouldn’t even allow Elain to take a walk alone. Granted, it was her own fault she’d gotten lost. After Azriel found her and dropped her at the townhouse, she’d walked in the door to find her sisters in a _panic_.

Feyre and Nesta were worried that Lucien received word she was going to reject the bond and kidnapped her. Elain tried to reason that this was ridiculous, the only people who knew what she planned to do were standing in the room and obviously wouldn’t have betrayed them. But Feyre and Nesta were just a _tad_ irrational when it came to her.

Lucien was due to return the next day and everyone had gathered at the House of Wind to go over the plans one last time. A beautiful platter had been spread on the dining room table, with all of Elain’s favorite foods and spices. It was a source of pride for her that many of the vegetables and spices came from her own gardens. Her and Rhys had briefly discussed opening a shop in Velaris to sell some of the vegetables and jars of the spices, but with her decision to reject the bond, she’d put the idea on hold. Although her sisters repeatedly assured her that she would be staying in Velaris, a part of her was afraid that Lucien wouldn’t be able to let her go and would insist on keeping an eye on her. In that case, she’d need to get away from city under the stars, at least for a little while.

She knew that Lucien wouldn’t willingly act that way, but Rhys repeatedly explained that letting a mating bond go was extremely difficult for males and that often times their behavior was completely out of their control.

Mor plopped a giant, unopened bottle red wine in front of Elain. “I once told your sister it was okay to drink directly from the bottle, and I stand by that. Especially today.”

Elain stared at the bottle for a moment before looking around the room for spare glass.

“Can you please pass me a glass, Azriel?” Elain asked, noticing the wine glasses were in a cabinet behind the shadowsinger. Without standing up, and Elain reasoned this was out pure laziness (and she realized that she would likely _never_ refer to the shadowsinger as lazy ever again), he dropped the glass in front of her.

“I would have just opted for straight from the bottle,” he said with a wink.

She turned back to the food in front of her, and noticed Nesta glaring at her from across the table. Feyre was staring at Azriel quizzically..

“What?” she asked Nesta.

No response, but the glaring continued.

Rhys took this opportunity to clear his throat and began, “A toast --”

“To chaos!” Cassian bellowed.

“Why do you always insist on being completely inappropriate?” Mor began. “Can’t you just be quiet and polite for once in your too long life?”

“I’m with her on this one,” Nesta mumbled.

“To breaking hearts!” Cassian said, standing up and raising his glass. He was clearly trying not to laugh. Elain choked on the air.

“Oh for the Cauldron’s sake, are you kidding me, Cassian?” Mor said, reaching across the table to slap him. Nesta beat her to it.

“It was a joke! That was clearly a joke!”

“Stop being an asshole,” Mor said. “Apologize to Elain.”

“Only if she was offended.” Cassian turned towards Elain. “Did you find me to be funny or were you offended?”

Elain, not wanting to get in the middle of it, replied, “It’s really okay.”

Azriel smirked.

“Ahem,” Rhys interrupted the bickering. “As I was saying, a toast.” He raised his glass and nodded towards Elain, “To taking your life in your own hands.”

“And to always supporting one another.” Azriel added. As he raised his glass towards Elain, his scarred hands shook slightly. She tried not to stare, but Elain couldn’t help but wonder what caused such terrible injuries. She made a mental note to ask him, once all of this was over. If she survived it.

She knew the risks they were taking to protect her, and there was no way for her to put into words how much it meant to her. She picked up her own glass, looking at each and every one of them with a slight nod. She hadn’t had any visions in several months, but at that moment, she could have sworn she felt happiness ahead of her.

******  


She was wearing her favorite navy blue dress, hair pinned into a loose knot at the back of her neck, a few strands hanging loose. Mor tried to get her to wear Feyre’s normal shade of blood red lipstick, but Elain settled with a light nude color instead. Blood red lipstick didn’t seem appropriate for the situation, although Mor insisted that if anything, _this_ was situation that called for her to own it.

Rhys, Cauldron bless him, had arranged everything. Elain, by choice, didn’t really want to know the details of how they planned to protect her. All she knew was that Azriel would be in the room, wrapped in shadows, in case things went south.

At first, she protested. She didn’t want anyone, let alone any of her closest friends, to hear the conversation she was going to have with Lucien. It was going to break his heart, and a piece of hers as well. She didn’t need or want witnesses.

_What if he gets angry and tries to harm you?_ Rhys had asked her.

He wouldn’t. In the deepest parts of her soul, she _knew_ Lucien. Understood him. There were more than a few moments over the last few years where she realized she knew exactly who he was. Half the time she knew what he was going to say before he said it. They were compatible in lots of ways, but not in the ones that mattered when it came to spending your life with someone. She did love him, as much as you can love someone non-romantically. She wished more than anything that this wasn’t the case. She wished she could find it in herself to _truly_ love him. But that’s what she had spent the last few years doing - and it was time for her to accept it was never going to work and move on. He wasn’t meant for her.

Rhys, Azriel and their spies were able to figure that Lucien _was_ planning to accept the role as Helion’s heir. She was to use this knowledge to her advantage. She was holding a wrinkled piece of paper between her delicate fingers, the paper containing the main talking points in case she became nervous or stumbled. She’d practiced what she wanted to say in front of the mirror several times, but she knew having her mate physically in front of her was going to be much harder than talking to her own reflection.

And so now she stood, pacing in the foyer of her town house, waiting for Lucien to arrive.

“You know, if you keep it up, you’re going to wear down your carpeting,” Azriel said. He was leaning against the archway to the living room.

“I can’t sit still. Or stand still, for that matter.”

“I don’t blame you.” His eyes followed her wherever she walked. She felt slightly uncomfortable, not that he was watching her, but that he was going to be listening to her conversation with Lucien. His posture straightened slightly, as if he could read her thoughts. “I promise you won’t even know I’m here.”

“It’s not that.” When he didn’t say anything, she asked, “Am I doing the right thing?”

He pushed off the archway with his wings and took a step towards her, his smile fading. “What’s making you think you’re not?”

“At this exact moment? Purely fear.” His smile reappeared. “But yesterday? A combination of things. It seems like most mated fae stick it out even if it’s not meant to be...Rhys couldn’t name anyone he knew personally that had turned down a mating bond. And then I was thinking that maybe I haven’t really given Lucien a chance. I know it’s silly. But I couldn’t help but think, is it just that I’m not strong enough?”

“Never,” Azriel said, somewhat angrily. He was only a step away from her. They were close enough to share the same breath and air. “I don’t know anyone stronger than you.”

“You’re just saying that because it’s what I want to hear.”

“I don’t do that.” As she gazed into his eyes, she knew he was telling the truth. After all, there was a reason his blade was named Truth-Teller. She suddenly felt awkward and out of place, but couldn’t bring herself to take a step back from Azriel. Or to pull her eyes away from his. Looking at him devastated her - she didn’t understand why his eyes broke her heart. But there was something there, dark and ruinous. And beautiful. Looking at him was like looking at a forest that had just been destroyed by a fire, only to find a single and solitary flower that survived.

“I----” she started to say.

“Am I interrupting something?” A gentle voice said from behind her. She spun around to see Lucien standing in the doorway.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little over a year ago, I told my friend Becky to pick up a SJM book. This past month, she finished reading ACOWAR and Empire of Storms, completing her read of every published SJM book to date. This chapter is for you, my dear, for giving me someone to fangirl over the Night Court with every day of the week.

_He hadn’t been able to put his finger on it, on the light that surrounded her. But it came to him then, swift and fierce and perfectly obvious. She was moonlight._

 ******

Azriel’s first thought was he needed to take several steps back from Elain. It went against everything he felt, every instinct he had, to take those three steps back. But he knew if he didn’t, Lucien could act before Elain said a single word. Fighting the anger that burned deep within, Azriel gripped the top of his blade, still in the holder on his hip, and took those steps away from her. She turned to face Lucien fully, standing tall. Only moments ago she was panicking, but there was no hint of that fear now as she looked at her mate. Her strength made Azriel want to kneel at her feet.

Without taking her eyes off Lucien, she said, “Azriel, you can leave.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he responded reflexively. He didn’t even realize he had spoken aloud until Lucien turned his stare towards him.

“You will,” Elain said, her gaze still focused on Lucien. “I’ll be okay.”

“Elain,” Lucien began, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Azriel was just leaving. We were discussing how best to sell some of my herbs and spices.” Azriel still hadn’t moved, so she finally turned her eyes towards him. From her look alone he knew that whatever happened next, she would be okay. In every circumstance this life had thrown at her, she’d proven to be stronger than anyone gave her credit for. She’d had her mortality stripped from her, a fiance she loved had broken her heart, a mate thrust upon her instantly, the gift (or curse, depending on how you looked at it) of being a seer, the death of her father, slaying the King…and yet, she’d only faltered briefly in those days after being turned. But not since.

So he did it. He went against every instinct, every muscle screaming at him not to move. And he left her standing there with her mate. Alone. Because she asked him to.

Within moments of setting foot outside Elain’s residence, he took to the skies to head towards the House of Wind, to let Rhys and Feyre know what happened. He feared Feyre would be angry with him, but he knew he had to leave her. Had he stayed, it would have done more harm than good.

Rhys was waiting for him on the balcony. Every aspect of their plan, every protection they had put in place, was unraveling before Azriel’s eyes. He couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“What happened? Why aren’t you still there?” Rhys said immediately upon seeing Azriel land. Feyre, thankfully, was elsewhere.

“Elain and I….Lucien came….” Azriel knew Rhys had never seen him so flustered. He wasn’t sure _he_ had ever seen himself so flustered, even when it came to Mor. He would die for Mor, for any of them, but there was something about Elain that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It wasn’t just that he would sacrifice his life for hers, it was more than that. He would do anything she asked him, anything at all, without hesitation. Even if it meant putting herself in danger. He’d let her do it, only because she asked. 

Azriel filled Rhys in quickly, his cobalt siphons glowing as he spoke.

“Shit,” Rhys muttered. “There’s no one in the house to protect her if this goes wrong. Which it probably will. I need to get Cassian back from the Day Court as soon as possible.” Cassian had been sent there to tell Helion what Elain was planning to do, in case they needed him to interfere.

Azriel nodded. “I know it seems bad…but I have this feeling that she’s going to be okay.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I know...but I do.” Azriel didn’t know why he was so sure.

“Go back to her roof, just in case.”

******

Elain led Lucien to the garden out back, sitting down on the gray and cracked cement bench next to him. Before Lucien arrived, she’d been unsure she was making the right decision. Mostly out of fear. But the moment she’d seen him, any ounce of doubt vanished. She realized she hadn’t missed him. Not his smile or his laugh or the warmth of his arms around her. She’d missed the _idea_ of him - that she had this predestined mate who loved her unconditionally, no matter what. But that’s not really what her and Lucien had.

She sensed his nerves beside her, as he cracked his knuckles and fidgeted with his fingers. A few weeds had sprung up beside the bench and Elain bent over to pull them out. She held them between her fingers. Lucien reached over and gently took one from her.

“There are never weeds here.” He said, rolling the stem between his fingers. “You’re not one to neglect the garden, even a little.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” she replied, dropping the remaining few stems into the grass in front of her. She’d grab them later.

When she didn’t continue, Lucien said, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to guess?” He was smiling, trying to make light of the situation. Through the bond, he must have sensed that whatever she had to say was serious.

The speech she practiced in front of the mirror was useless now. She knew it would come out sounding rehearsed and she respected Lucien too much to break his heart with practiced words. The crumpled piece of paper in her pocket lay untouched.

She looked at him. “I need you to let me get through this, to not interrupt me, however badly you may want to.” He nodded, and she began. “When you came into my life two years ago, I didn’t know what to make of the situation. Of anything. You weren’t there those first few weeks after - I didn’t know what was happening to my mind. I didn’t understand it, not until Azr - not until they figured out that what I was seeing were glimpses into the future. I was so emotionally confused for most of the battles with the King, between losing my mortality and my fiance and this life I had planned out for myself....and then being given this ability to _see_ , I didn’t know what to make of any of it. And then I lost my father and the battle ended and you were there.”

She paused to look at him, to memorize the lines of his face, his one russet eye and the other golden. His red hair was blowing slightly in the breeze, the pointed tips of his ears visible. She resisted the urge to tuck the stray hands behind his ears as she had done so many times, instead lacing her own fingers together in her lap in front of her.

“Lucien, you were a gift I never deserved. You gave me the space to grieve, but also let it be known that as my mate, you were there for me. I don’t know if I ever voiced how much that all meant. And while we were getting to know each other, learning to be what the other needs and desires...six months ago, I had this vision. You had just learned you were Helion’s heir, and you’d raced off to the Day Court to deal with the repercussions and what it all meant. I was tending to the flowers when it came to me, this glimpse into the future. And in it, you weren’t beside me, not as my mate.”

At this, Lucien’s demeanor changed. He shifted from being gentle and concerned to alert. He faced her fully as she continued.

“You were in clothes from the Day Court and you just seemed so...happy. Happier than you’d ever been here. It’s all night and darkness and shadows here. You were always flames and light. There you were, finally where you belonged. And I, I was still here...still in the Night Court, wearing a navy gown and tending to the flowers among the shadows in the garden. We were happier apart, Lucien.”

He was silent as he processed what she told him, and she turned her gaze towards the house, not able to bare to look at him. She could have sworn she saw shadows on the roof.

“Is what you’re saying....are you saying, that you don’t want to be mates? You don’t want to accept the bond?” She’d never given him food, which was the customary tradition when one was accepting the mating bond. He’d never pressured her to, never even brought it up. Never asked when she thought she would be ready. But now, in this moment, she could see that he thought it was coming. Instead, she was shattering his heart.

“Yes,” and she heard her own heart break. “I don’t think we should accept the bond.”

A few flames escaped his hand, aimed not at Elain, but at her flowers. He didn’t say anything before winnowing away.

Feyre appeared immediately, pulling Elain into a tight hug. Nesta arrived a minute later, yanking Elain from Feyre’s arms into her own.

“Did he hurt you?” Nesta asked.

Elain shook her head. “Only a few of the black dahlias and purple calla lilies,” which Lucien knew were her favorite. She had a soft spot for dark flowers.

“Did he say anything? Did he agree to it?” Nesta asked, pulling Elain from the hug and looking at her face.

“He didn’t say anything before he winnowed away.” He didn’t need to. She could feel him raging down the bond, which hadn’t been properly buried yet. She knew there were unspoken words between them, that they would have to speak again before it was done. But for now, he needed space. And she needed quiet.

“Can you find Azriel?” Elain asked Feyre. Nesta was still analyzing her movements, as if waiting for her to break down at any moment. Feyre gave Nesta a look that Elain didn’t miss before she turned to the roof.

“You can come down from there, Az.”

Nesta and Feyre suddenly found they had elsewhere to be.

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, seconds after landing on the grass.

“No,” she replied, a few tears escaping down her cheek. “I’m not.” He didn’t say anything as he reached his hand out to wipe away her tears.

“Were you on the roof the whole time?” Azriel nodded. “He could have spotted you, or scented you. He could have hurt you.”

“Not as much as he could have hurt you. He didn’t know I was there, I promise.”

She nodded, turning around to stare at the charred hole in her garden. She remembered the weeds from earlier, walking over to the front of the bench to pick them up. Azriel watched her, remaining silent. She threw them into the middle of the ashes. The garden could use more imperfections.

“I think he thought I was going to tell him that I was ready to accept the bond...and instead, I destroyed him. And in turn, it feels like I destroyed a piece of _me_.” She didn’t know why talking to Azriel was so much easier than her sisters, but it was. His shadows soothed her nerves as more tears escaped. She sat down on the bench, Azriel standing awkwardly nearby. His wings were folded in tight behind him and his siphons muted. 

Azriel, who rarely seemed uncomfortable, knelt down in front of Elain, his knees in the grass and dirt, as she sat on the bench. Gently, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell any of us about the vision?”

“Because telling you meant it was true, and I wasn’t ready to accept it. But I am now.” More tears. Cauldron, why couldn’t she stop crying?

“Do you want me to leave?” He asked after a pregnant silence. She didn’t. In the days after she was made immortal, Azriel’s silent presence had saved her. At the time, she didn’t realize what a calming force he had been, the light breeze after a brutal storm.

“No...I just need to sit here. To accept what I’ve done. You don't have to leave, but I understand if there's somewhere else you need to be.”

For the rest of the day and night they sat in silence in the garden, staring at the weeds.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After going through a pretty tough break up a few years ago, Ellie Goulding’s Halcyon Days album pretty much kept me afloat. I like to think Elain would also love my favorite song on the album (Explosions), and as such, a few references to various lyrics lay scattered throughout this chapter. Enjoy!

_ The center of the night sky, the moon had always led him home. And there she was, drenched in moonlight. Suddenly, it all made perfect sense.  _

******

Azriel stood on the roof of Elain’s townhouse. He’d been on watch for the past several hours and was currently waiting for Rhys to show up and relieve him. The bastard was late, per usual, and he knew it was entirely Feyre’s fault. Before Feyre had come into all of their lives, Rhys had been nothing but punctual. Mostly because he had nowhere else to be. But with Feyre around, and he was more than thankful for her, his dear friend was almost always late.

He was admiring a speck of dirt under his right thumbnail, when he heard her cough. It was a slight cough, not like she was choking or anything, but Azriel couldn’t help but turn his gaze towards her immediately to make sure she was okay. She was laying flat on the cement bench in her garden, where she’d been for the greater part of the afternoon, catching the sun as she read a book. He could tell from angle she held the book that she was using it to shield her eyes from the direct sunlight. Over the course of the last few hours, she’d shifted the book’s position so that it was in line with sun. He’d chuckled every time she’d move, knowing she didn’t realize she was doing it.

“You’ve always had a pull to that one, haven’t you?” Rhys whispered into his ear. Azriel had been so focused on Elain that he hadn’t even noticed his High Lord arrive. And it was  _ hard  _ to catch Azriel off guard.

“She’s just...special.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Rhys said, giving him a knowing smirk. “Take a break, there are leftovers at our townhouse. No sign of Lucien, I assume?”

“None.” 

“And no word from Helion?” Rhys probed, scanning the skyline. 

“Not a word. I assume he’s trying to reason with him a bit.”

“I’m not sure that rejecting a mating bond is something that can be reasoned with,” Rhys added, a bit sadly. 

Az merely nodded, and without another word, he took to the skies. Rhys was right, he needed a break. He was hungry, but he also needed to clear his head and put some distance between himself and Elain. She obviously wasn’t his mate, but he couldn’t help but feel protective of her. He knew it would never be anything romantic - who could want someone as damaged as he was? He was a bastard covered in scars and she was beautiful and strong and gifted. A war hero. She could grow flowers where none should be able to grow, and he, well, he was friends with the shadows. That was all he could give her. And she’d only just ended things with Lucien. 

The clouds were starting to move in, which suited his mood perfectly. A good meal, some rest, and a quick trip to his favorite bar were all he could think about. Well, not all. But he thought if maybe he focused on those things, he’d be able to tune out that little voice in his head telling him that he’d never be good enough.

*******

Az stayed away from Elain’s house for a day, giving Cassian, much to his disliking, a double shift. He’d been desperate to clear his head, and a night out in the city was exactly what he needed. He felt refreshed when he landed on the roof to relieve his friend.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Cassian grumbled. 

“I needed some time away.” Azriel said, defensively.

Cassian looked him over, and his normally tough appearance softened a bit. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Azriel shook his head. He was never one to talk about his feelings - after all, he’d kept silent about Mor for centuries and barely ever spoke about his early childhood and the unimaginable horrors he’d faced. Cassian clapped him on the shoulder, hard enough that a human would have fallen over, and raced off into the sky for his well-deserved break. 

He didn’t mean to, but his eyes immediately searched the garden for her. She wasn’t outside and Azriel loosed a breath, plopping down on the edge of the roof. Lucien would come for Elain eventually since things weren’t settled between them. It made Azriel feel slightly on edge at the thought of having to leave Elain alone with him, again, to have another conversation and vowed to try and be in the room with her. He just hoped that when Lucien  _ did _ eventually arrive, it would be to talk and not to drag her away. He didn’t think she’d approve of him tearing Lucien limb from limb. 

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned around quickly to find Elain standing before him holding a plate of freshly baked cookies. He noticed they were oatmeal chocolate chip, Cassian’s favorite. 

“Oh,” she said, clearly surprised to see him. He noted that it looked like she was disappointed it was him. “I thought Cassian was still here. Do you like oatmeal chocolate chip?”

He didn’t, but he nodded and stepped towards her to take a cookie from the the plate. He took a few small bites, and although he wasn’t normally a fan of sweets, it tasted quite delicious. Mouth full, he nodded at her in thanks.

An awkwardness settled over them as she continued to stand there in front of him, holding the plate of cookies, and he continued to stand there, chewing slowly. Finally, she mumbled something that he didn’t quite catch.

“Hmm?” he said.

“I said ‘where were you?’ You’re not one to be late unless something important happened.” Giving him time to answer, she walked over to small iron table on the corner of the roof and placed the plate down before pulling out a chair and sitting down. 

Azriel walked across the roof and sat down next to her. They were like two magnets - whenever he was near her, he felt a pull, the need to be even closer.

“Just a little worn out, needed a night away is all.” He knew it sounded like the lie it was. He’d never felt even remotely worn out before, always pushing the boundaries of exhaustion. 

“I was worried.”

“About me? I’m the last thing you should be worried about,” Azriel said, concern seeping into his voice. 

“I know you can take care of yourself and everything,” she said, waving her hand towards the sky as if that encompassed the  _ everything _ . “Still doesn’t prevent me from worrying.”

He frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“It’s not just you I worry about,” Elain added. “It’s Feyre, and Rhys, Cassian, and Mor, too.”

“Not Nesta?” He said with a smirk, burying the wound left by her explaining he wasn’t singularly important.

“Why would I need to worry about Nesta? Most people keep a distance from her to begin with. She radiates misery, in case you haven’t noticed.”

His smile faded and he asked quietly, “You don’t think I radiate misery?”

“Cauldron, no. You radiate life, twilight,  s--” she stopped speaking and awkwardly cleared her throat. “I should probably head to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Okay,” was all Azriel managed to say. She picked up the plate of cookies and as the door on the roof closed, he quietly whispered into approaching darkness, “I’ll be here.”

******

The knock on the front door awoke her. She knew who it was.  _Finally_. Azriel appeared in the window, cobalt siphons glowing and shadows sprawling from him before she could even place a foot on the floor. He held his finger to his lips, urging her to be silent. 

“I need to talk to him. I owe him that much. Wait on the roof.”

“No. It's the middle of the night.”

“Azriel, you’ll do as I say or I may never speak to you again.” She knew she was being harsh, and somewhat stubborn, but if she didn’t get him out of the room, she’d never be able to have an honest conversation with Lucien.

The pounding on the door increased, and as she rose from the bed, she gave Azriel a gentle shove out of the window he’d been perched in. 

“Coming!” she yelled as she raced down the steps to the front door. When she reached the closed (and heavily locked and warded) door, she placed both hands on it as if she could feel Lucien doing the same thing on the other side. Eyes closed, deep breath. She could do this.

She opened the door to find her mate completely disheveled and distraught. His one good eye was completely bloodshot, the other whirring around his head if searching for enemies. “Can I come in?”

She nodded, and although it went against all instincts to turn her back on him, she turned around to lead him into the living room. He sat on one of the plushy chairs, a comfortable distance away from Elain.

“So, it’s clearly been a rough few days,” Lucien began. She could tell how nervous he was, fingers fidgeting in front of him. His right knee began bouncing up and down slightly. “And I didn’t come here to have a long drawn out conversation...but I did want to say a few things to you, before I disappear back to the Day Court for good."

Immediately, Elain relaxed. He was going to go. He was accepting her choice.

“First, I want to apologize for how I reacted. I could have burned you, and I’m sorry for that. I just sort of...erupted." He stopped talking then, and stood up. He started pacing around the room, silent for several minutes. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Elain offered, trying to ease the tension.

He shook his head. “Need to get through this.” A deep breath. And then, “For the longest time, I thought you were this wonderful gift after everything I’d been through. We don’t need to rehash every horrible part of my life, but I thought the moment you tumbled out of the Cauldron soaking wet onto that cold floor, I thought that you were the best thing that ever happened to me. It took me longer than I care to admit to realize that while you may have been the best thing to ever happen to me, you did not feel the same way in return. You had your mortality, your human life taken from you. And no time to process what that meant before being given a mate. I don’t think I realized just how incompatible we always were. How broken I am.”

“You’re not broken, Lucien. But even if you were, I’ve always loved fixing broken things.” She didn't know what possessed her to say it. She loved tending to flowers that struggled, coaxing weeds that shouldn't belong into other parts of the garden. She loved taking a broken cup and instead of throwing it out, using it for seeds to flourish. And when it came to people, she always had an open heart, never turning anyone away, even if they had shown her cruelty. She loved getting people to open up, to talk to her, when they were not willing to talk to anyone else. And although she would never consider her mate broken, he had not had the easiest life. And he'd happily, willingly, opened up to her about it. 

He gave her a puzzling look. “I’m so sorry, Elain.”

“There’s no need to apologize. Really.” She was calm and collected, a sail weathering rough seas during a storm. She could do this. She could get through this. 

“There is, though. I should have realized you weren’t happy. I’m your  _ mate _ and I didn’t even realize how unhappy you’ve been. I’ve been so consumed lately with finding out Helion was my father and what that all meant that I didn’t notice you were suffering in silence. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I hoped it would get better. Easier. I hoped it would just  _ click _ .”

“It never really did, did it?”

“No. It didn’t.” 

He looked at her as if it was his last glimpse at the sun. “Something tells me I’m going to thank you for this one day. But right now, it’s taking every ounce of strength not to whisk you away with me. But I respect your decision. So before I say something that I’ll regret...” 

He stepped towards where she sat on the couch and bent down. For a moment, she thought he was going to scoop her into his arms. Instead, he gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, breathing in her scent for the last time. 

“Be well, Elain. Be happy.”

And before she could even say goodbye, he was gone.

******

She took time to gather herself. After Lucien winnowed away, she’d laid down on the couch and sobbed (uncontrollably, but in a good way, she told herself) for several minutes. She knew Azriel and whoever else he called were probably pacing relentlessly on the roof, worried sick, but she was allowed to take these few minutes to feel the pain. She deserved it.

When she finally made it onto the roof, Azriel was nowhere in sight. A loud thud behind her told her he’d just landed and had been circling the skies.

“You didn’t call Rhys or Cassian?” Elain asked, looking for their silhouettes in the sky.

“I didn’t think to call them,” he replied truthfully. “I was too worried that Lucien was going to winnow away with you and I didn’t want to break my concentration for even a second.” 

He was fuming, she could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears. 

“I’m okay,” she said. “He didn’t hurt me.”

He didn’t say anything.

“He just wanted to talk, to tell me that he was sorry, which I thought I was ridiculous. What does  _ he  _ have to be sorry for? It’s not like he was the one who was rejecting me...” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t stop. The tension pouring out of Azriel’s shadows in waves was making her nervous. 

“I could tell he was devastated, and it kills me to know how much he’s hurting and that I’m the one that caused that pain. But in the end…he understood. He even said he thought that one day he may thank me for doing this. And that means more to me than any of the rest of it.”

Azriel still remained silent, arms folded across his chest, glaring at her. 

“Azriel, say something. Anything. Please.”

He took a step towards her. “He could have hurt you,” Azriel growled, taking another step. They were on a dangerous collision course. He towered over her, but she stood tall, their noses less than an inch apart. “Because you wouldn’t let me in that room with you, because you sent me away, he could have taken you...and I wouldn’t have been able to stop him. And that scared me, that scared me more than anything in my 500 years of existence. I was completely powerless, Elain and I--” And then he did what she suspected he’d wanted to do for weeks now - he reached out, his hands gripping the side of her face, and kissed her. Deeply. Passionately. As if it was their last moment in this world and nothing would ever stand between them. She kissed him back. It could have been minutes or hours or seconds or centuries before she placed her hands on his, gently pulling them off the sides of her face and taking a step away from him.

He was beautiful. And he’d been her protector, not only tonight, but for entire immortal life. The hole Lucien left in her heart was only newly closed, like a thin band-aid over a bullet hole. It could break open again at any moment, and she was terrified of bleeding all over him. “I’m sorry,” was all she managed to say before turning her back on him and walking away. 

She wasn’t ready for it yet. Another time. She’d love him another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for the emotional rollercoaster that is this story. That being said, please leave a comment :)


End file.
